


Trust: When Love Shines Brightest

by EurovisionWrongContest



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF, metamoro - Fandom
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, How Do I Tag, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, MetaMoro, Smut, Top/Bottom Discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EurovisionWrongContest/pseuds/EurovisionWrongContest
Summary: It wasn’t that Ermal was opposed to the idea, but the fact that Fabrizio had kept it from him. Anyone would feel a little hurt, surely. But Ermal is not just anyone. He’s the love of Fabrizio’s life, and deserves only the best. Fabrizio just wants to indulge his every wish, make his every fantasy come to life, give him the perfect that he deserves. But he’s still working on conveying his emotions and opening up fully, an obstacle that he has yet to overcome. There’s also the slightly inconvenient fact that he’s never been on top before, and has no idea what he’s doing, and that he refuses to give Ermal anything but perfect. This could be a bumpy ride…





	1. It's nothing, really

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to bite the bullet and upload my first ever Metamoro (in fact my first multi-chapter fic and mature fic) here. Shout out to @ohermal whose fabulous blog and headcanons inspired this fic, I hope you guys enjoy, and don’t cringe too much at my attempts to write sexy stuff. Feedback is very much appreciated, either here or come yell headcanons to me on tumblr at 221bornot221bthatisthequestion
> 
> Thanks for reading! Bacetti e ambraccio tutti <3

Chapter One- It’s nothing, really.

“Fuck, Ermal…”

“Fuck, what? Tell me what you need.”

“Faster, Ermal, please, stop making me wait.” By this point, Fabrizio is almost begging Ermal, his voice growing raspier by the minute as he loses control of his body completely, yielding everything to Ermal’s touch, Ermal’s mouth, Ermal’s body...

“Look at you, Fabbri, so needy…” Ermal’s words are broken up by various kisses, some light and barely skimming Fabrizio’s damp skin, some deep enough to leave faint marks, as he thrusts into Fabrizio, trying to delay his own orgasm as much as he can, “So eager for me. God, you don’t know what you do to me when you moan like that…”

At Ermal’s voice, and quickening thrusts, Fabrizio throws his head back, eyes closed, and the initially low whimpers have become louder, totally shameless, to the point where he’s no longer forming words but pure, animalistic sounds. Sounds which he knows drive Ermal crazy, and also indicate how close he is to release. It’s up to chance whether Ermal will be merciful and let him come, or force him to wait, to fight every urge his body is giving, until tears prickle in his eyes.

“Erm, fuck, I-”   
He’s cut off by a passionate kiss, and fortunately Ermal must be close too, as he takes Fabrizio’s erection in one hand, throws his head back and lets out a series of gasps, words failing him at that moment, yet Fabrizio knows exactly what he means. Were his hands not tied to the headboard, he would have pulled Ermal towards him, whispering obscene things in his ear as the younger man climaxed. But he feels the scarf cutting into his wrists, threatening his circulation, and he can do nothing but moan, scream, as his orgasm ripples through his whole body; his muscles tense up and seconds later he’s painting both of their stomachs with white streaks. For a moment, he doesn’t know where he is. He just hears a “Fabbri, I’m about to-” followed by a low moan as Ermal feels his own release inside of him. 

They remain in that position for a few minutes, before Ermal slowly pulls out, wipes their stomachs down with his discarded shirt (actually Fabbri’s but it will wash out) and slowly unties Fabrizio’s hands. Fabrizio immediately wraps his arms around Ermal, pulling him down to hold him close. Ermal shuffles up the bed slightly, knowing that Fabbri will want to bury his face into Ermal’s neck for a few moments. They’ve only used the rope once before and after such an intense session, they’re both a little tender. 

Fabrizio closes his eyes, gently tracing his arms up Ermal’s body to play with his hair. As he nuzzles his face into Ermal’s soft neck, he runs his fingertips through the soft mass of curls, occasionally sighing contentedly. 

“Hey...you’re tickling me, darling,” whispers Ermal. “What? I can’t help that your hair’s so fluffy.” At the mock chiding, Fabrizio laughs and settles his arms on Ermal’s back, clinging to him like a koala, wrapping a leg around his body as if to say “Don’t move, let me hold you like this forever.” 

“Ermal, that was…” his voice dies away as he smiles against Ermal’s soft skin, “Wow.” He can’t think of anything else to say, and decides to show his appreciation by pulling away from Ermal’s tight grip to kiss him softly on the lips. Ermal gladly kisses back, and rolls over, so that Fabrizio is directly beneath him, kissing him all the while.

“I mean, that may have been the best sex of my life, but I’m not even gonna be able to move tonight, let alone go again.”

Ermal giggles, brushing Fabrizio’s hair out of his face, and says: “God Fabbri, if that hasn’t worn you out, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to satisfy you. Besides, it’s not your leg muscles that are gonna be sore for a week. I’m going to have to hire a masseuse at this rate.”

When Fabrizio opens his mouth to apologise, Ermal presses a finger to the older man’s lips. 

“I’m not complaining, mind. I’d happily give up my right arm for the chance to hear you moan for me like that again. Did I ever tell you that your face when you climax is one of the most beautiful things in this world, and that it’s the moment I look forward to most, every time, without fail?” 

At this, Ermal kisses him lightly on the cheek, before rolling back onto the bed beside him. Fabrizio takes the younger man in his arms, and wonders if Ermal meant anything by that statement. The first thing that comes to Fabri’s mind is that he’s never seen Ermal’s face before he climaxes- Fabri’s never been the one in control, and Ermal’s always been the one to do the hard work. 

It also occurs to Fabrizio that the discussion of who took each role in the bedroom had yet to happen. Ermal had been the one to take the lead the first time, and neither had properly spoken about it since. They had talked about the various kinks they’d wanted to try out, but Fabrizio, on his part, had never once offered to take charge. Not once had he caused his Ermal to throw his head back and cry out in pure bliss as Fabrizio ravished his body. How did he know that Ermal was happy to take control all the time? He didn’t, and this issue (was it even an issue or was Fabrizio being paranoid?) began to bother him a little. 

Worst of all, Ermal seems to have noticed Fabrizio’s mind has wondered and immediately asks if everything is alright and if he’d tied the rope wrongly and accidentally hurt him. Fabrizio wants to take Ermal’s face in his hands, reassure him that it had been the best sex of his life- that the pain had only increased his desire for the younger man- and then to dominate Ermal, allowing him to be on the receiving end of such pleasure for once.

Alas, he does none of this, and settles for a “I’m fine, Ermal. It’s nothing, really.” Had he brought his little conundrum up, Ermal could have taken it completely the wrong way, and Fabrizio wants nothing less than for Ermal to think that he hasn’t done a good enough job. Ermal is perfection, and deserves nothing less from Fabrizio. Sometimes Fabrizio thinks Ermal deserves someone rougher, more willing to put up a fight for control, more fiery, more...manly, even. 

Caught up in this whirlwind of thoughts, his mind has wondered considerably and when Ermal gives him a cheeky bite to the ear- a gesture Fabrizio normally finds adorable and endearing- Fabrizio jumps and pulls away slightly. 

“Bizio, are you sure y-”

“I’m fine Ermal, just tired. Can we just...cuddle and go to sleep?”

It’s a good thing Fabrizio is a singer, not an actor, for that excuse convinces nobody.

He rolls over, allowing Ermal to spoon him, yet the younger man seems a little distant that night. Fabrizio stays up quite a while thinking, and ends up not getting much sleep that night. Neither does Ermal, he notices, a pang of guilt tearing at his heart.


	2. Chapter Two- Should have thought not to overthink this

Chapter Two- Should have thought not to overthink this

Ermal usually wakes Fabrizio up with a gentle kiss to the forehead or by accidentally tickling him with the rebellious curls, tangled after sleeping. Sometimes he decides to stay in bed a little longer, cuddling up to Fabri and murmuring sweet nothings into his ear while the man sleeps. Well, that is when Ermal wakes up first. Often poor Fabri is rudely awakened by a cold breeze as Ermal cocoons himself in every blanket on the bed. If Ermal is hot, he cools down by spreading out like a starfish, leaving Fabri clinging on to the bed for dear life as Ermal occupies all the space. It’s a running joke between the two that Fabrizio will soon tire of Ermal’s tossing, turning, starfishing and blanket/pillow hogging and tie Ermal to the bed with his scarf so that Fabrizio can sleep in peace for once. Nonetheless, sleep or no sleep, he loves sharing his bed with his Ermal and adores the rare occasion when Ermal wakes him gently, insisting on one last cuddle before the day begins.

When Fabrizio wakes up this morning, Ermal is nowhere to be seen. He’s propped up the pillows and smoothed out his side of the duvet as best he can. When Ermal wants to make a point about something, he’s rarely subtle. Having woken up after just a few hours sleep that morning, he’s tired and therefore grumpy. He decides that coffee is favourable to cuddles with Fabrizio that morning and rises quickly. 

He still gives Fabri a fleeting kiss on the forehead before he leaves the room, and closely examines his wrists. No marks, he notes, a little relieved.

As he waits for the coffee to brew, Ermal wonders what on earth was wrong with Fabrizio last night. He wasn’t hurt, and seemed to enjoy being tied up immensely. Hell, he’d even referred to it as the best sex of his life. What could Ermal have possibly done wrong? Neither of them are particularly stressed out or overwhelmingly busy these days; aside from a few interviews and appearances, they have no major commitments. Ermal is totally clueless, and a little annoyed. Fabrizio had gone to use the bathroom in the early hours of the morning and must have seen that Ermal was awake. When he’d returned, Ermal hadn’t pressed the issue but murmured a soft ‘Bizio?’ to which Fabrizio had apologised for disturbing him and feigned sleep again. 

“It’s nothing, really.” Then why wasn’t Fabrizio talking to him about it? Deep in thought, he doesn’t notice Fabrizio walk into the kitchen until the older man cheekily wraps his arms around him, pressing a soft ‘buongiorno’ into his ear. Ermal huffs and pushes Fabri away. This man has kept him awake worrying all night and now thinks he can brush the whole incident under the rug without so much as an apology? Oh no. They are talking about last night, and they are doing it now, an increasingly cranky Ermal decides.

“Bizio, what happened last night?” he asks, trying to conceal his irritation, knowing that a full-blown fight will only escalate whatever situation they are facing. He turns to look at Fabri, whose smile has faded and whose eyes are also heavy with lack of sleep. After a long pause, Ermal’s patience wears thin. “Well?”

“I don’t know what you mean, amore. I thought everything was fine, unless you-”

“Bullshit. You weren’t yourself at all after we fucked and you know it.”

The tone has grown somewhat confrontational, and Ermal is really struggling to contain his frustration at Fabrizio’s attempts to skirt away from the question. He’s not in the mood for games- he wants to talk, and now.

“God Ermal, what’s gotten into you this morning?” Fabrizio replies, unprepared for such a dressing down from his boyfriend so early in the morning. At this, Ermal’s anger increases as Fabrizio totally ignores his initial question and tries to open one of the cupboards, carelessly nudging Ermal out of the way.

“Well if this is how you’re going to treat me when I do my best to satisfy you, perhaps I won’t bother spoiling you next time. God knows I could use the sleep.”

Setting the cereal down with a harsh thud, Fabrizio blurts out: “Well, Ermal, perhaps you’d like to give me the chance to spoil you once in a blue moon if you feel so strongly about it?”

Silence. 

Ermal’s mouth twitches slightly, as though he’s trying to formulate a response, but struggling to get the words out. He’s rarely speechless, but Fabrizio seems to be on a mission to push every single one of Ermal’s buttons. If so, he’s succeeding. But Ermal is also feeling a little hurt. A million thoughts chase through his mind and when he sees Fabri approaching, a concerned look on his face, he steps back and turns away. He will not cry, he will not cry, he mustn’t-

Feeling a pair of soft, muscular arms around him, Ermal breathes in, holds the breath for a moment as if it is one of the many thoughts he’s trying to comprehend at the moment, then exhales. His arms remain crossed over his chest and he’s turning his eyes upwards, blinking furiously to ward any potential tears away. 

Gently, Fabrizio turns him around, pulling the younger man into his chest and stroking his hair. Ermal’s anger is now long gone and he allows Fabri’s delicate touch, his soft embrace, to calm him. Fabrizio doesn’t say a word until Ermal’s breathing slows down and he moves his arms to hold his Fabri close to him, signifying that he’s ready to talk again.

“Ermal, caro, it’s alright if you don’t want our...er, arrangement, to change. I won’t force you, and even if you announced right now that you never wanted to have sex with me ever again, it’d be ok. I didn’t fall for Ermal Meta for his body, but for him. The way he stood next to me on the stage at Sanremo when we bared our hearts to the entire world. Ermal whose quirky little mannerisms and beautiful way with words make every one of my days brighter. Ermal, who has shown me that you can still find love at 43 after a heartbreak if the right Italian-Albanian singer songwriter turns up in your life. The sex is honestly the cherry on the top of an already wonderful cake, if you'll pardon the dreadful metaphor.”

Fabrizio gently rocks Ermal in his arms, giving him time to process these words, before softly asking if he wants to talk about this morning, and if anything’s bothering him at all. Ermal nods and they walk over to the sofa where they sit facing each other, Fabri resting a reassuring hand on Ermal’s knee.

“There comes a point when you don’t think there are any secrets left between you and your boyfriend, well in a relationship like ours I would imagine so. I’ve told you everything about me, bared my deepest scars and laid all my worst and best pieces out in front of you. I know that this issue is not a monumental, life-changing factor but why didn’t you tell me last night, love? You know I wouldn’t get angry or laugh at you….I’d hope so anyway. I know it’s stupid, but…”

“Ermal, it makes perfect sense. It’s not stupid or pathetic, but the truth, and that’s all I will ever ask of you. If you don’t want me to be dominant, that’s ok and I won’t push for it. Your happiness is the main thing that matters to me, you must know that.”

Whilst saying this, Fabrizio wipes away the tear rolling down Ermal’s cheek and pulls him into a tight, strong embrace that seems to say ‘I’ve got you now, I’ve got you and I never want to let go.’ Ermal lives for these hugs, and clings to his Fabri just as tightly.

“Actually, Erm, I should apologise,” Fabrizio says, looking a little sheepish, “I shouldn’t have let this become such a big issue, and I meant to go about telling you more tactfully but I wasn’t sure when to, because last night was so fucking amazing and I didn’t want to kill the mood, and I shoudn’t have been such a dick to you this morning and blurted it out like that. I’m sorry, Ermal.”

Ermal pulls away slightly to look at Fabrizio in the eyes, taking both of Fabri’s hands and clearing his throat. 

“Actually, Bizio, I should be the one apologising, not you. I was out of line this morning, and shouldn’t have put you on the spot like tha-” Ermal is cut off by a gentle, yet passionate kiss from Fabrizio, who asks:

“But what are you apologising for, cespuglie? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Whilst saying this, Fabri runs his hand through Ermal’s wild curls, gently playing with them. Ermal leans his head back and then remarks: 

“You know, it never really occurred to me that I was always on top; I honestly thought you didn’t want to try anything else so I didn’t ask about it.”

“So is that a yes to... you know..”

“It is a very enthusiastic yes, Bizio. In fact, how much time do we have before we need to leave?”

“Not so tired now, eh? Regardless, I’m still wrecked from last night. How does a bubble bath followed by going back to bed for an hour sound?”

“Bizio, I’m never going to say no to going to bed with you, darling.”

Ermal then goes to brew another coffee while Fabrizio attends to the bath. Both men are relieved that the tension from last night has gone- they hate being angry or distant towards each other. Nonetheless, a small worry wiggles in Fabrizio’s mind. 

He’s never been on top with another man before, ever, and has no idea what he is doing. 

How can he make it perfect for Ermal when he doesn’t even know where to start?


	3. Chapter Three- Bizio, stop overthinking, I'm horny (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (So this 'section' of the story was meant to be one whole chapter, but I got carried away and now it's going to be split into three sub chapters :)
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the kudos, comments and to everyone reading. For a first time writer, it means a lot and I love you all.
> 
> Bacetti e ambraccio!! <3

Ermal is horny. His patience is being tested right now. He knows that it is important for Fabrizio to make the first move, to decide when the time is right to explore the new dynamic that him being on top will create. And he’s being rather well behaved; for a whole week he’s not mentioned his growing desire- need, even- to have Fabri take him to bed. Seven whole days have passed, one hundred and sixty eight hours- not that Ermal has been counting. He’s suppressed the urge to give Fabrizio what has come to be The Look, bite his lip whilst fixating his eyes on Fabrizio’s thick, chapped lips and slowly walk over to push him into a wall, attack his neck with kisses, and-

Damn. That image has done nothing to help the situation. Now Ermal is extremely horny, and Fabrizio seems to be in no hurry to put Operation Top Ermal into practice.

Ermal knows that Bizio is likely very nervous about the whole thing; he doesn’t know how experienced Fabri is in that area, and can easily tell that Fabrizio will worry about hurting him. Yes. The man who enjoys being marked with hickeys, tied to the bed and spanked (sometimes all in the same night) is panicking in case he brings the slightest pain to his boyfriend. Endearing as this may be, Ermal wishes Fabri would just trust himself to take the initiative and go for it without overthinking for once.

Then again, Ermal wouldn’t swap his gentle, protective, loving boyfriend for anyone. He loves Fabrizio’s little quirks and sensitive nature; the way he asks “May I?” everytime he takes his hand in public, the way he tries to learn loving phrases in Albanian to whisper to Ermal just before they go to sleep, the way he just knows if Ermal is upset or anxious about something and kneels down before him (as though talking to a child), takes his hand and waits patiently for Ermal to open up. Fabrizio is an actual angel, Ermal has decided, and some day soon he is going to tell him just how much he truly loves him.

But right now, Ermal is horny, and everything else has been put on the sidelines of his mind.

The two of them are on the sofa, watching some Italian soap opera that neither of them particularly care for, yet doesn’t require immense concentration or pull too much at their heartstrings before bed. Ermal is sprawled over Fabrizio, who seems to have become the former’s pillow for the evening. Ermal’s head rests on Fabrizio’s chest, his soft curls just tickling Fabrizio’s chin. Fabrizio runs one hand through his boyfriend’s hair and lightly holds Ermal’s hand in the other. 

It’s a perfect, romantic image; the type that every painter craves to capture on a canvas which can then be shown to the world. Just two men in love, free of cares and full of contentment. Well, it would be for approximately five more minutes. Ermal knows that there is a particularly steamy scene in this episode, and hopes that it may inspire Fabrizio, shall we say, to enact a similar performance with his Ermal.

As the fictional lovers finally give in to the mounting sexual tension that has been building up for far too many episodes, Ermal slowly prints kisses onto Fabrizio, beginning at his collarbone, then up to his jawline, and finally he presses his lips to Fabri’s in a soft kiss that quickly becomes heated and passionate, reflecting the neediness of the two men (one Ermal in particular).

Fabri wraps his hands around Ermal’s back, pulling the man down to completely lie atop him, letting out low, breathy moans in between kisses. As Fabrizio’s eyes close and a smile breaks out among his tanned, freckled face, Ermal decides that he can’t help it, he can’t wait any longer. Driven by his needy desire, he grinds his hips (where his jeans have suddenly become a lot tighter) against Fabrizio’s, and pulls one of Fabrizio’s hands to squeeze his backside. By this point, Ermal’s moaning too and he practically shivers in anticipation for Fabrizio. Growing more impatient by the second, he pulls away from Fabrizio’s kisses, and runs his hands down Fabrizio’s torso, and is undoing the button on Fabri’s jeans when a hand comes down to block him.

“Ermal, not here, please.” Fabri’s tone is embarrassed and his voice shakes ever so slightly. Removing his hand from Fabrizio’s jeans, Ermal gently rests it on his cheek.

“To bed, darling?” Ermal whispers in Fabri’s ear. He eagerly awaits a response, but after a good thirty seconds, withdraws to look at Fabrizio, who has gone worryingly quiet. The sight of Fabrizio, who has put a hand in front of his face in embarrassment and turned away from Ermal, is not what the younger man was expecting, and he immediately rolls off of Fabrizio, giving him space. 

Ermal is now curled up next to Fabrizio on the little sofa, one knee on the floor to prevent him falling off. He takes Fabrizio’s hand in his own and pulls it away from his face.

“Hey, Bizio,” he softly speaks, “What’s wrong, amore?”

He knows now that Fabrizio will never admit that anything is wrong unless he is asked directly, but still approaches the topic delicately. Fabrizio doesn’t turn to look at him, but clasps at Ermal’s hand tightly.

“Maybe we could...I don’t know, it’s just…” he starts. Ermal waits patiently, giving a small hum to encourage him to continue. “Maybe we could...wait a little longer before we…”

At this point he tails off, too embarrassed to put his thoughts into crude words. Ermal pulls Fabrizio’s face to look at him and offers a reassuring smile.

“Of course, amore.” When Fabrizio offers a small smile in return, Ermal pulls the man into a hug, allowing Bizio’s fluffy mass of hair to rest against his chest. 

“You’re not...annoyed, are you?”

“Horny, yes. Annoyed, absolutely not. We’re not doing anything until we’re both ready, ok?”

“....”

“Ok, caro?”

“Yeah. Ok.”

“How about we go up to bed now, so that I can cuddle your embarrassment away, and you can get an early night? I think we both need it.”

“To quote you, Ermal, I’ll never say no to going to sleep with you.”

“No, Fabri, I said going to bed with you.”

“No, you said sleep.”

“Bed.”

“Sleep.”

“Bed.”

“Whatever, Ermal, I’m cold. Come upstairs and spoon me.”

“...Bizio?”

“Yes, love?”

“....Nevermind.”

“What’s up?”

“It doesn’t matter now. What does is snuggling and sleep.”

“Agreed. And on that note, Mr Starfish AKA Rome’s most-wanted blanket thief, you’re getting tied down tonight once I’ve been suitably cuddled.”


	4. Chapter Three- Bizio, stop overthinking, I'm horny (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I had an outline for this fic which has kinda gone out of the window- I get excited and run away with myself, but I think it will work. Anyways, enjoy the fourth installment of these two dorks figuring out their feelings, ft Ermal's not so sexy antics in bed, a new side to Fabrizio and a certain Bushpepa coming onto the scene...
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the support, the kudos, comments, messages- I'm kinda overwhelmed with all the love you guys have shown, it means so much to me as a first time writer <3 love and hugs to you all xx

Fabrizio is rudely awoken by a sharp gust of cold. There is no blanket covering him, prompting him to huff in frustration. He literally tied Ermal to the bed to stop this from happening again. How on earth…? Dreary with sleep, he flicks on the bedside lamp only to find that Ermal has managed to grab the duvet in between his legs and yank it off of Fabrizio. Seriously? Sighing, Fabrizio unties Ermal’s wrists and places them on the pillow next to him. As Fabri reaches down to surreptitiously remove the blankets from between his thighs (an almost impossible task), Ermal jolts awake at the sudden contact- Fabri’s hands are like ice- and flails his newly freed arms out in shock, accidentally smacking Bizio in the face.

 

“OW!”

 

When Ermal opens his eyes to see his boyfriend rubbing a palm along his slightly reddened cheek, he sheepishly draws himself up to press a kiss to the injury. Somewhat endearingly, before Ermal has even woken up enough to formulate words, Fabrizio has apologised for rousing him. Ermal just groans in embarrassment, pressing his face into Bizio’s neck.

 

“Maybe tying you down isn’t such a good idea after all.”

 

“Shhh, I know what to do,” murmurs a sleepy Ermal, who spreads out the duvet to wrap both men into a tight cocoon, Fabrizio pressing lightly into Ermal’s back. “I didn’t hurt you much, did I, love?”

 

Fabrizio snores in response, eliciting a smile from Ermal, who settles down to sleep again.

 

When Ermal gets too hot later on, he decides to resolve the matter by throwing the whole duvet off the bed. Fabri despairs.

That day, Fabrizio leaves early in the morning to go to his studio in Rome. Ermal may not be busy with his music that day, but he has plans. Namely, plans to seduce Fabrizio without frightening him off. 

 

He knows now that it is important for Bizio to take the lead completely. However desperate he may be for Fabrizio(‘s cock), he realises that Fabri was so overwhelmed last night because he wasn’t expecting such action, he wasn’t prepared for Ermal’s neediness, and was too surprised by the sudden escalation that he panicked and shied away.

 

Which is why Fabrizio is going to make the first move today, not Ermal. 

 

But Ermal is still going to seduce him. He knows what Fabri likes (that doesn’t involve Ermal taking charge of him completely), what makes him go weak at the knees. Anticipation is key for Fabrizio, and part of the thrill for him is the wait that precedes their passionate sessions. Flirtatious glances across a room, eye contact that is slightly too long to just be friendly, a series of fleeting touches that slowly become lingering and sensual. Oh god, Ermal’s cock hardens at the mere thought of Fabrizio’s own sensual, lingering touch...

 

That afternoon, Ermal calls Fabrizio during his lunch break. The phone rings a few times before Fabrizio picks up. “Ciao, Ermal, you ok?”

 

“I’m ok, I suppose,” Ermal begins, his voice low and sultry, “ I just have this rather pressing issue at the moment and wanted to talk to you about it.”

 

“Ermal…” Fabrizio warns.

 

“It’s so lonely here all on my own, and I was just looking at those divine pictures that you sent me when I was in Tirana. Shall I describe the image to you?”

 

“Ermal, Andrea is literally sat next to me, we can’t-”

 

“And you are not beside me right now, on this glorious, hot afternoon. I tell you Fabri, the heat is making me feel so incredibly needy for you and all I can do is wait. Even if all you do is hold me in those toned arms of yours while I stroke myself, it’ll be enough.” A sharp intake of breath. “Please, Fabri, I’m so horny right now, tell me you won’t be too long.”

 

Ermal hears a soft click of a door, signifying that he now has Fabrizio on his own. 

 

“Christ Ermal, you’ll be the death of me one of these days, I swear,” says Fabri, and the words seem somewhat half formed, as though he is biting his lip to suppress a moan. “Putting such a gorgeous image in my mind when I’m not there to kiss you, really, what have I done to deserve such teasing?”

 

“Come home now. Just leave. I want you here now.”

 

“Well, that’s not possible, I’m afraid, sweetheart.”

 

“Bizio…,” Ermal practically whines.

 

“Now don’t pull that tone with me, Ermal. I’ll tell you what. I may just leave slightly earlier than normal to be home at say...four? When I get there I expect to find you on the bed, ready and waiting for me. Understood?”

 

“Fuck, Fabri, I-”

 

“Understood?” There is a rough edge to Fabri’s voice- an air of dominance that Ermal was not expecting, causing him to moan a strangled ‘yes’ in response. He’s almost whining, and claps a hand to his mouth, almost ashamed of the noises he’s making, worried as if somebody might hear.

 

“Good. Until then, amore mio.” And the phone clicks off.

 

Ermal has never been in this situation before- fuck, has Fabrizio always had such a desire to be in control? Why hasn’t Ermal asked about this before? Most importantly, how long until four o’clock? 

 

Two and a half hours.

 

Damn.

 

Ermal, with the willpower of a god, rolls off of the bed and heads for the shower (his second one today), turning the water to the coldest setting possible. Before getting in, he snaps a photo of his naked body to send to his Bizio, simply captioning it: “All yours xx”

 

\--------

 

At three minutes past four, Fabrizio arrives home, locking the door behind him and dumping all of his stuff unceremoniously onto the sofa. He’s usually very meticulous with his organisation, but he’s been waiting for two and a half painfully long hours to see Ermal, and he can’t wait any longer. He’d almost run a red light whilst driving home, his mind endlessly repeating Ermal’s whining in his ears.

 

He’s never heard Ermal so submissive, and it was doing things to him, to his mind, to his cock, and he’s been thinking of nothing but Ermal ever since that phone call earlier. He slowly walks up the stairs, through the hallway, stopping before their bedroom door. Without saying a word, he knocks three times.

 

“Fabri?” Ermal asks, trying to hold back a whimper- or so Fabri thinks.

 

Without answering him, Fabrizio opens the door and is faced with one of the most stunning sights he has ever seen. Ermal is lying on top of the bed, hair loose and still slightly damp, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes immediately fix themselves onto Bizio’s. He’s wearing nothing but a loosely tied silk dressing gown, a fabulous red that screams desire. He doesn’t want to waste time undressing, he wants Fabri now. 

 

Fabrizio walks over to stand opposite the bed. With one finger, he beckons Ermal to sit on the edge. Ermal complies almost immediately, never breaking his gaze with Fabrizio. Before he does anything else, though, he takes one of Ermal’s hands and softly, but firmly, instructs:

 

“If I do anything that hurts you or that you don’t like, tell me to stop, alright?”

 

Ermal nods, and when Fabrizio raises his eyebrows, Ermal verbally agrees. 

 

A smile breaks out on Fabrizio’s face and he reaches for the dressing gown’s belt, slowly undoing it and stripping Ermal of the garment. When Ermal goes to pull Fabrizio’s hand towards his erection, Fabri grins mischievously and pulls away. 

 

“Not yet, amore. I’m still fully dressed, aren’t I?” he asks softly, but with an authoritative undertone. “Place your hands behind your back and don’t think about moving them until I’m naked.”

 

Still, when Ermal bites his lip, his breath shaking in frustration as he follows Fabri’s orders, the older man’s resolve crumbles a little. He clasps his hands around Ermal’s cheeks and pulls him in for a soft, wet kiss. “You really are beautiful, Ermal, you know? I’ve got a nice surprise for you for being so patient…”

 

At this, Fabrizio stands back up and takes a few steps away from the bed. Gently swaying his hips, he undoes the buttons of his shirt one by one, occasionally rubbing his hardened nipples, never breaking eye contact with Ermal, who looks almost wrecked with anticipation. Having thrown the shirt onto the floor, he now undoes the belt around his jeans and toys with the button.

 

Ermal shudders with want at this moment and one of his hands approaches the area between his legs. At Fabrizio’s raised eyebrow, he swallows and places it back behind him. 

 

“Good.” Fabrizio says, in a low, rough tone, totally different to the raspy whimpers that Ermal had been so used to up until this point. Feeling needy himself, he takes little time removing his jeans, socks and shoes, leaving himself in just his boxers. He decides to take mercy on Ermal now, and pushes him back onto the bed so that he is straddling the younger man. Leaning over him, he peppers Ermal’s whole body with kisses: his jawline, his ears, his chest, his neck- god, that neck. Fabrizio can’t resist marking it with a sudden bite, at which Ermal jumps, letting out a shameless moan in surprise. He smiles at the younger man’s reaction, and begins to move downwards, kissing Ermal’s abdomen, his hips, his thighs (which have began to shake ever so slightly). He takes Ermal’s cock in one hand, and moves to kiss it, to lick it, hoping to give Ermal what he deserves for having bought so much pleasure to Fabrizio in the months leading to this point. As he takes Ermal in his mouth, he feels Ermal’s hands pulling at his hair, and-

 

Ermal’s mobile starts ringing.

 

“Ignore it.” Ermal immediately groans, his whole body wracked with desire, as Fabrizio thoroughly devours him. Fabrizio continues, deepening his movement with every bob of his head, and Ermal can no longer suppress the whimpers. The obscene sounds that Ermal is making drive Fabri over the edge, and he pulls away from Ermal to remove his boxers, the need to touch himself- or be touched- almost destroying him.

 

The phone rings again.

 

“Fuck, I-” Ermal groans, and he momentarily rolls away from Bizio, shooting him an embarrassed, apologetic glance before grabbing the phone. 

 

Marco’s calling him. He sees a stream of missed calls from the number, and curses. 

 

“It’s Marco, I don’t know what-” Ermal begins, frantically trying to explain. Fabrizio smiles softly at him and replies, “It’s ok, answer it.”

 

Ermal accepts the call and pales. Five seconds later, he’s leapt up off the bed, and is scrambling to gather various items of clothing off the floor. He ends the call before turning to Fabri, a comical combination of panic, embarrassment, and desire written on his face.

 

“I’m meant to be at Amici in ten minutes, I forgot it was on, what with Eurovision getting in the way of the schedules. I’m so sorry Bizio, I’ll make it up to you, I promise-”

 

Fabrizio silences the younger man with a kiss. “It’s fine, amore, stop stressing. You get dressed, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

 

“But-”

 

“Ermal, don’t worry. There will be other opportunities later on for this. I made you wait long enough on my part.”

 

After a tight embrace, the two men rush to get Ermal ready and to the studio in time to make the broadcast. Ermal feels horrendously guilty, but also pleasantly surprised at how comfortably Fabri had taken the lead. He’d never seen Bizio so dominant before, and he definitely liked it. Their next time couldn’t come soon enough...

 

In his rush to leave the house, however, Ermal doesn’t see the other notification that has popped up on his phone.

  
**Eugent (‘Rock On) Bushpepa** :  _ ‘Ej, Ermal, I actually thought you were with Bizio?? Hot pic, though ;)’ _


	5. Chapter Three- Bizio, cuddle me, I'm overthinking again (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciao, raga! This chapter is the sappiest thing that I have ever written (And I'm not entirely happy with it but I wanted to get on with the story and wasn't feeling the smut last night but don't worry it will come in time). Anyways, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Baci e ambraccio per tutti! xx

It’s ridiculously late when Ermal returns home that night, and he’s shattered. The taxi driver had to shout to jerk him awake before dropping him home, and when Ermal opens his heavy eyes, he sees several texts from Fabrizio, asking when will he be back and does he want anything to eat. Thankfully, Fabri hasn’t mentioned ‘the incident’ that occurred earlier that evening in which a rather large, purple bruise had started to form on Ermal’s neck and had deepened in colour as the broadcast went on. At the first interval, Marco had rushed to him, practically assaulting him with a hideous scarf, which Ermal had point blank refused to wear. Thankfully, a make-up artist had found some concealer and smothered it on Ermal’s neck, somewhat masking the monstrosity Fabri had left there. But it was to no avail. The scarf was tied on, and Ermal felt every eye in that studio on him like a dagger pointed to his head. Oh joy, he thought, I really had missed you, anxiety. 

The Internet would probably be going bazookas right now, which is why Ermal has turned off all his social media. One shitstorm at a time, he thinks. Nonetheless, he gets home at half past 12 and moves as quietly as he can, just in case Bizio is sleeping. The house is in total darkness, and Ermal abandons his bag, jacket, shirt, Marco’s scarf, and his folder on the floor in the living room. 

However, as he climbs the stairs, he hears the soft strumming of a guitar, and the hums of a low, raspy voice. He’s in two minds, part of him wants to go downstairs and avoid Fabri, still embarrassed by the events of earlier that day, part of him wants to sit on Bizio’s lap and be held until he feels better.

He walks to and fro from the stairs to the slightly ajar bedroom door, deciding what course of action to take. If he goes to see Bizio, yes he’ll get his hugs but what if Fabri wants to pick up where they left off and Ermal’s so tired and he’s fed up of having to hide in public and not being able to have any quality time with his boyfriend and he doesn’t want to talk about it now but he’s really not in the mood for being held down and repeatedly fucked to death but he was the one to spur Bizio on earlier so he shouldn’t refuse him now but he’s going to start crying and it will kill the mood and Bizio deserves better and-

“Ermal? What are you doing out there?”

Shit. He’s been caught. In truth, Ermal doesn’t know why he feels this guilty and awkward. Bizio is his guardian angel, and would never think badly of him. But Ermal has a hunch: he has always struggled to say the word ‘no’ and he may have to now.

But Bizio has seen him and he can’t run away (but why would you run away from the softest kindest most loving dork in the world Ermal this doesn’t make any sense?) so he pushes the door open and stands there a little sheepishly.

Bizio has been engrossed in his own world up until that point, his mind consumed by chords and progressions and his music. Seeing Ermal standing there, his hands slightly trembling, waiting in silence for Fabrizio to say something, he clocks that something isn’t quite right, and sets down the guitar, opening his arms.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Ermal has never responded so fast to one of Bizio’s instructions. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Ermal has wrapped his arms around the older man, resting his chin on his shoulder. With the close contact, Bizio can sense the fast pace of Ermal’s pulse, and rocks him slightly. This calms Ermal from his little, unexpected panic attack and finally, the younger man speaks.

“I’m sorry Bizio, I don’t know what’s going on, it’s all...yeah…”

Fabri lies back on the bed, pulling Ermal with him, softly replying: “It’s ok Ermal, you’re here now and we can take all the time we need. No wonder you’re a bit restless after such an intense day, just lie here for a while and breathe.”

“It’s not that. I feel bad for, well, you know.” Ermal lies his head on Fabrizio’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and finally yielding himself fully to Bizio’s gentle embrace.

“Oh, caro. Don’t tell me that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

Ermal’s silence confirms his suspicions and Bizio smiles slightly with relief. Having seen Ermal act so out of character, he’d thought that something awful had happened. He presses a delicate kiss to Ermal’s forehead and continues: “Ermal, forget about earlier. Sometimes, things happen. You get an unexpected call from your manager, or your partner has his bi-annual asthma attack while you’re going down on him, or you get too excited with your new vibrator and have to get it removed at the hospital while your father waits for you in the car. Trust me Ermal, I’ve been in far worse situations than the one today. And you’re human, you make mistakes, you forget things, and that’s just what it is. Yes, it’s annoying and embarrassing, but it’s nothing to feel guilty about, ok?”

Ermal smiles and snuggles further into Fabrizio’s neck, tickling him with the puffy curls (twice their usual side thanks to a generous hair spraying session earlier). How does Fabrizio always know just the right way to calm him down? He takes Fabri’s hand and rolls over slightly so that the two men are facing each other.

“Earlier, before the phone, was it...good for you?” Ermal asks, blushing like a teenager. Fabri takes a little time to respond, a curious expression on his face.

“It was...new…” Fabri eventually says, and when Ermal looks concerned, he elaborates, “I mean, it was amazing, and there were things we did that I definitely want to try again later on but I...it’s just…”

“It’s what, darling?” Ermal whispers, pushing a strand of hair behind Fabri’s ear and letting his hand linger on the man’s cheek.

“Maybe we could save the dominance stuff for a little later, when I’m a bit more...experienced?” He takes a deep breath before adding, “I’ve never been on top with another man before.”

“No way,” Ermal blurts out, and immediately scolds himself mentally for it. “You seemed so confident earlier, I thought you- that’s not fair, how come you’re so amazing when you have so little experience?” 

At this, Bizio chuckles lightly. “I mean, thank you, but, would you mind much if we tone down the dominant/submissive thing? I want to ravish you, yes, but I want to be kind, I want to make you scream with pleasure, not pain, and I just want to...to make you feel absolutely loved, I know I sound like a proper boring old man right now, but just for the first time, let me be gentle, please?”

Ermal looks at the flushed, stuttering man, and one thought runs through his mind. He pushes it down and tries to forget it momentarily. In the meantime, he answers Bizio with a soft kiss to the lips and presses their foreheads together. 

“Bizio...how is it that I think you’re the most amazing boyfriend ever, and then you become even more perfect?” 

“You don’t want to be more...adventurous?”

“Maybe, but I know one thing for sure- I only want you. Fabrizio. If he’s gentle, I want gentle. I don’t want a man who isn’t Fabrizio. You’re true to yourself, and you never allow anyone to taint that. I love it. And even outside of the bedroom, you’re genuine. When you sing from the heart and soul as though it’s the last song that will ever be sung on earth, when you smile at me before we go out together and manage to put all my anxieties away without even speaking...you know me inside and out, better than anyone else, and I couldn’t ask anything more of you. You’re perfect, you’re Fabrizio. There’s no-one else I could ever want when I have you.”

At this point, tears are brimming in the older man’s eyes, and he pulls Ermal into the tightest embrace, threatening his airway, but conveying all the love that he can’t put into words, because he doesn’t possess Ermal’s inimitable skill with language. He expresses his love through his body, and when he presses his hands into Ermal’s back, burying his face into those curls he loves so much, Ermal has never felt more safe, more supported, more adored. 

What did he do in a past life to deserve such a man as Fabrizio? 

Just as they’re about to sleep that night, Fabrizio with his arms around Ermal, who’s turned to allow the older man to spoon him, that suppressed thought resurfaces in Ermal’s mind and lingers- Ermal doesn’t think it will ever leave now.

Fabrizio Mobrici, he thinks, I’m in love with you, and I want to be by your side forever. Ti amo, Fabrizio, ti amo, ti amo, ti amo...


	6. Chapter Four: It’s tonight, It’s not tonight, It is tonight, No it’s not...Is it?

It’s been a few days since the Amici incident, and Bizio has had a lot of time to think things over. Putting Ermal’s submissive facade aside, Fabrizio knows that the man is fairly inexperienced with assuming that role, and wants the moment when he does to be perfect. His eagerness to wreck Ermal with pleasure is checked by his anxieties about hurting the man. Although he knows Ermal’s not a young boy who doesn’t know his limits and shies away from the word no, he wants to take this moment to show Ermal that he loves him. 

Because he does. He loves Ermal, and has done for a while now.

Fabrizio may be very turned on by ropes, pain and dirty talk, but he knows that the moments he looks forward to most with Ermal are the ones when neither have a care in the world except devoting time to each other. Like when Ermal sits at the piano, idly running his fingers along the keys as Fabri writes ideas in a notebook that will blossom into songs later. Like when they drove out to the countryside that one night and just lay on the roof of the car, staring at the beauty of the night sky and its thousand bright stars, holding hands and whispering sweet words to one another. Both men treasured these moments, and Bizio wants their first time (because, let’s face it, it’s his first time on top ever) to be just as tender.

He’s checked both of their schedules, texted Marco to ensure that Ermal has no commitments on Friday night (“Don’t ask questions just tell me if he’s free- no, don’t tell him I called, just- fine. It’s a surprise. There, are you happy?”) and he’s made the decision that that will be the night, no ifs and no buts (unless Ermal doesn’t want to for whatever reason).

But while the sex will hopefully be phenomenal for Ermal, he wants to take the whole evening to spoil his boyfriend. Everything has to be perfect. For Ermal deserves nothing less.

On Monday, he rings up his mother to ask about a particular recipe. “The one you cooked when I brought Ermal home, with the lamb?”

“I’ll email it over for you. But you haven’t rang me just to ask for a recipe and hang up on me now, I hope?”

“No, mama, I need to go shopping later, that’s why I called early-”

“Who are you cooking for? There’s a lot of wine in that recipe for Libero and Anita…”

“Actually, it’s for Ermal. I wanted to cook a nice dinner for him, and he loved that meal you gave him, so I thought I’d try that one.”

“That’s sweet, Fabri. Is it your anniversary? I could send you some flowers and chocolates if you like.”

“Actually, mama, I… just want to spoil him, what with him being so busy with his new album and preparation for the tour...and to thank him for everything he’s done for me so far.”  
(And then give him the best sex of his life, he adds mentally)

“It sounds like he makes you really happy, darling. I’m so glad you two are together.”

“Me too, mama. He makes me the happiest Roman alive.”

\-----

Later that day, Fabri’s unpacking the shopping when Ermal arrives home. He immediately wonders over to the bags, helping Bizio to unpack (even though he barely knows where anything goes). Bizio turns around at one point to find his boyfriend leaning against the counter, peering curiously into one bag.

Fabrizio knows exactly what’s in that bag, and goes to swat Ermal away, but accidentally sends the bag’s contents flying, spilling all over the floor.

“Christ Fabri, how many do you think we’ll need?”  
“Look. They were on offer and I’m trying to be economical here and- oh for gods sake Ermal don’t start counting them.”

“40 condoms. What the hell do you have planned for me, eh?”

Blushing a deep crimson, Fabri huffs, “Stop asking questions and put them all away before the kids get home from school.”

“Shall we see how many we can get through before-”

“No!”

“Fine, fine. We’ll be responsible for once.”

As soon as Bizio turns around, Ermal takes aim and throws a condom right at his ass.

\---

Ermal knows that he and Bizio won’t be intimate until at least Wednesday night, when the children go back to Giada’s house for a few days. Not that he minds, he loves the two kids and adores spending time with them, playing football with Libero, painting Anita’s nails and reading them stories in the evening when they’re supposed to be sleeping (but Ermal can’t say no to their wide eyes when they ask for ‘just one more book, Zio Ermal, then we’ll go straight to sleep’).

But as soon as Giada’s car pulls away from the household, with the two children strapped in the back of it, Ermal’s mind reverts to his boyfriend. He knows Bizio must be planning something soon, but waits patiently for the older man to decide when they sleep together again. Soon. Probably. Hopefully.

As the two men lie in bed that night, Ermal reading a book and Fabri jotting down ideas in the notebook, Fabri sees Ermal glancing over occasionally, linking his arm with Bizio’s, breathing heavily. 

“Alright, I’ll put the light out to let you sleep.”

Ok, not tonight, Ermal realises, but he doesn’t feel frustrated or annoyed, he just leans over to drape his arms across Bizio, feeling his steady heartbeat through the pajama top, and enjoys the close contact, the stillness and the warmth his boyfriend radiates.

Bizio puts the book on the bedside table and switches the lamp off, before rolling over to wrap his arms around the younger man. He presses a soft kiss to Ermal’s cheek and whispers a gentle ‘buonanotte, tesoro.”

Ermal’s mind thinks only one thing: tell him, tell him you love him, ti amo Fabrizio, tell him, this is the moment…

But Ermal’s mouth remains decidedly closed. He won’t risk tainting the almost-perfect moment, because, although he hates to consider the possibility, Bizio may not feel as strongly, and Ermal doesn’t know if he’s prepared for that.

\------

Thursday passes with little action, both men fully engrossed in their music that day. Fabrizio’s running over the final preparations for a music video, and Ermal sits through a seemingly endless meeting about tour dates and ticket sales and marketing… 

Both men are tired that night (thanks to Ermal falling out of bed the night before, pulling Bizio, the lamp and the blankets with him) and Ermal’s falling asleep on the sofa, paying no attention to the film- or was it a documentary?- they were watching. 

“Come on sleepyhead, let’s go to bed.”

Bizio practically carries Ermal up to bed that night, tucking him in gently and pulling him to face the centre of the bed. Hopefully the night will pass without disaster…

\----

Friday morning. Today’s the day. Bizio wakes up bright and early, well, as bright as he can be when Ermal’s lying diagonally across their bed, almost smothering poor Bizio. Well, at least he stayed in the bed tonight.

Ermal’s bored. He’s trying to pay attention when his manager discusses merchandise sales and interviews to promote the tour, but it’s not the most riveting subject for a Friday morning.  
The coffee machine is broken, and the journalist who chats to him that afternoon seems far too focused on his personal life to be professional, clearly preferring cheap gossip to an in-depth conversation about music and style…

He’s not having the best of days, and it’s late- well past the usual six o’clock time- when he returns home. He swings the door open, plonking his bag and coat on the floor, only to catch the scent of lamb casserole in his nose. Immediately, he thinks of Bari, of his mother’s cooking, of the first meal that he had with Bizio’s family when they came out together…

None of the lights are on in the house, but the rooms are illuminated by scores of little candles, all flickering delicately in the stillness of their home. Ermal’s utterly touched by Fabri’s effort to give him a warm welcome. He’d sent one grumpy text to Bizio after the interview and come home to this. Wow. He makes a note to remind Fabri that he’s the best boyfriend ever (and to tell him that he loves him…).

He wonders into the kitchen, where Fabri stands by the stove, attending to the meal. He smiles and approaches his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Bizio and resting his chin on the man’s shoulder.

“This all looks so lovely, Bizio.”

Turning round, Bizio plants a soft kiss on Ermal’s nose. 

“So do you, caro.”

Ermal giggles softly at the compliment, and for a moment he feels like a teenager again, blushing and not knowing what to say to the handsome man in front of him, but just standing beside him, relishing his touch and smile.

“Hey, Ermal, fancy playing the piano for me while I finish preparing this?”

Ermal sits on the stool (unfortunately facing away from Fabrizio) before gently caressing the keys, and the melody of A Parte Te fills the room. Bizio, at the stove, sways to the music and hums along, before serving the casserole and calling Ermal to the table.

They joke and play footsie with each other throughout the whole meal, after Ermal compliments his boyfriend’s cooking skills, and remarking how much the dish reminds him of home. 

“Hey, Fabri?”

“Yes?”

“...”

“What’s up, tesoro?”

“I was thinking of visiting Bari this summer, and staying at my mum’s. Do you want to come with me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

When they’re both finished with the food, Ermal offers to help Fabri clear the plates away, but the man refuses to hear it.

“But Fabri, you prepared everything, let me help clean up.”

“You can help if you want by serenading me on the piano while I wash up.”

“Bizio…”

“Stop whining, Ermal, it won’t work. I insist you play.”

Ermal returns to the piano, and plays with more passion this time, singing along to the melody of Piccola Anima, and Fabrizio melts a little inside. After the final note, Ermal hears a rather enthusiastic ‘bravo!” from over his shoulder. He jumps slightly- where the hell had Bizio come from?- before turning to smile at his boyfriend. Bizio sees Ermal’s suprised expression and apologises for spooking him, by taking his head in both of his hands and pulling the man close for a lingering, soft kiss. Before either of them pull away, Bizio finds Ermal’s lips with his own again, and the gentle caresses quickly become deeper, hotter, more urgent, leaving both men breathless.

Ermal leans back slightly, pulling Fabrizio down for another kiss, when the older man straddles him on the stool, running a hand under Ermal’s shirt, the other arm behind Ermal’s back supporting him, his hand gently pulling Ermal’s head back. Fabri presses kisses into his neck, delicate little bites on his Adam’s apple, and Ermal can’t resist bucking his hips up slightly to touch Bizio’s.

“Fuck-” he gasps as Fabri keenly reciprocates the touch, before gently pushing Ermal’s curls out of his face and leaning in to whisper into Ermal’s ear:

“Shall we continue this upstairs, amore?”


	7. Fucking Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciao ragazzi! I can't believe I've actually managed to finish and publish this, but here is the final chapter (when our lovable dorks finally get it on). Hope you enjoy, and THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who's read, commented, given Kudos, you're all amazing and I dedicate this to you. Without further ado, please enjoy x

Ermal wants to pinch himself, he feels like he’s dreaming. As Fabrizio pulls him up from the piano stool, an arm wrapped behind the younger man as he dips him slightly, their lips pressing together again, again, again. The kisses are addictive, hot breath, soft lips, the scratch of the stubble on Bizio’s chin, closed eyes and hitched sighs…

For a moment, the two men stand, almost motionless in the kitchen, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes shut, breathing in each other’s scent, relishing the intimacy, so intense yet so serene, and for a few minutes the urgency of the two men is neglected. In each other’s arms, waiting for one of them to make the first move, both a little nervous, yet desperate for release, the arousal almost overwhelming. They’ve had a long time to wait for this night, and it shows.

But Fabrizio’s the first to break the stillness.  
“To bed, amore mio?”

The words are whispered into Ermal’s ear, and all he can do is whisper a soft ‘yes, fuck, yes,’ before Fabrizio takes his hand tightly. His palm is slightly clammy, from desire and a small hint of fear, but Ermal clings to it. They’re only a few stairs up when he murmurs a soft “Bizio?” The older man turns around, and Ermal drops his hand momentarily to pull the man closer. Fabrizio pushes Ermal into the wall with just a predatory gaze (his smile never fading, just sharpening ever so slightly) and runs a hand through the curls, gives his earlobe a tender nibble, whilst undoing the buttons of his shirt oh so slowly. As he continues down, he traces a line of kisses from Ermal’s ear to his collarbone to his neck, earning a soft laugh.

“It t-tickles, caro.”

“Does it now?” Bizio smiles against Ermal’s neck, pressing delicate kisses and little bites into the pale skin there. Occasionally, he glances up to see Ermal smiling widely, giggling softly when Bizio runs his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot.

Intermingled with the giggles, however, are a series of gasps and moans. The sounds only increase Fabrizio’s desire, and when Ermal’s hands travel down Fabrizio’s back to pull his hips closer, squeezing his buttocks, he physically feels Ermal’s own arousal, pressing into his hips as the younger man rolls his hips softly against him, as if to say ‘Don’t make me wait, I want you, I need you now.’

“You’re so gorgeous, Ermal…”

“Mmmm, you too, Fabri,” Ermal says in a soft, low tone, whilst Bizio grinds his hips against Ermal’s, the friction driving Ermal almost insane with longing. “I’ve imagined this night for so long…”

“I can tell, piccolo.”

And with those words, Fabri crashes his mouth into Ermal’s, one hand caressing his divine face, whilst Ermal takes the other, pulling it down towards his crotch, where Fabri can feel his erection through the fabric. Ermal’s hands are shaking and his palms are slightly damp, and he doesn’t need to ask, he just lets out a strangled ‘Bizio’ when Fabri cups Ermal’s crotch with his hand, leaning in towards Ermal’s ear. 

“Bed. Now.”

Fabri’s voice is thick and raspy with arousal, and after a final wet kiss, he takes Ermal’s hand and almost runs up the stairs, consumed with almost a desperation to just pin the man down and thoroughly devour him, to hear those moans of sheer lust, to press kisses on those soft, trembling thighs, to make the man come while screaming his name…

They reach the bedroom, neither stopping to shut the door or close the blinds. Fabrizio pushes Ermal onto the bed before climbing atop him.

He leans down to kiss Ermal, his nose, his lips, his jawline, his cheeks...all the while fingering with the buttons on his jeans. Finally, he pulls them loose and momentarily pulls back from Ermal’s kisses to take them off completely, leaving the man virtually naked, except for his boxers. He runs a series of kisses, some fleeting, some rough, up Ermal’s lower legs, his knees, before lingering on his trembling thighs, mixing the kisses with gentle caresses and massages. 

“So beautiful, god ermal, you don’t know just how stunning you are.”

“Bizio, wait, I-” Ermal stops whining needily for a moment to sit up and kiss the older man on the lips, tugging at his shirt all the while, desperate to rid him of his clothes so that he can just take him now-

“Ermal, hold on, I’m all tangled up here-”

A soft giggle from Ermal as he guides the tight shirt off of Fabri, ruffling his hair affectionately when his boyfriend is freed at last. Fabrizio laughs too, wrapping his arms around Ermal’s torso and pulling him in for a lingering, deep kiss. It’s slightly awkward, though, given that the two men can’t stop smiling long enough to pucker their lips up properly.

“Hey, Bizio?”

“Yes, amore…”

“What you did the other day, when you stripped off slowly in front of me….”

“Yes, amore?” Bizio interrupts Ermal with soft kisses against his lips, making him stutter and try to pull away in order to speak, but failing, totally unable to resist Fabrizio’s playful mouth.

“Can you- fuck!- do it again? It was- ah!- really, h-hot…”

“In just my trousers?” Bizio pulls back to see a faint blush covering Ermal’s cheeks. “Of course, sweetheart, anything for you.”

He stands before the bed, Ermal watching and gently fingering his cock through his boxers, and softly sways his hips, ever so slowly pulling the jeans down. He never breaks eye contact with Ermal, who tightens the grip on his cock ever so slightly, increasing the pressure as he practically shivers in anticipation…

After what feels like eternity, he’s finally naked. He climbs back on top of the bed, his body covering Ermal as he goes in for another kiss. He sees the neediness of his boyfriend, who groans slightly and his thighs involuntarily tremble, ever so slightly, reminding Fabrizio of just how horny the man actually is. As Bizio deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue further into Ermal’s mouth, he reaches into his boxers and grazes over the man’s shaft with his fingertips. When he finally tightens his grip and begins to stroke all the way up and down his erection, kissing him all the while, Ermal throws his head onto the pillow in bliss, moaning at the long-awaited contact. When Fabri runs his thumb over the tip of Ermal’s cock, smearing pre-come all over the head, Ermal releases a strangled noise, a cross between a gasp and a whine, and Fabrizio could come from that noise alone.

Pulling Ermal’s face up to look the man in the eyes, he quickens the pace, strokes becoming tugs, and Ermal’s blushing and moaning without restraint, his grip on Bizio’s back tightening as he becomes overwhelmed with desire, occasionally pulling the man down to kiss him, almost embarrassed by the shameless noises he’s making. Fabrizio moves to Ermal’s neck, suddenly biting the pale flesh, hard enough to leave a purple mark…

“Fuck! Fabri, do that again, please, god-”

“Look at you, Ermal, so needy…” he grunts, echoing the words that Ermal has repeated to Fabri so many times now. Expecting a blush or cheeky response, he’s shocked when Ermal just looks him in the eye and begs:

“Fuck, Fabri...want you….now, please….I-I can’t wait much longer….”

“As you wish, tesoro.”

And Fabri pulls away from Ermal’s neck, moving down the bed to devote full attention to preparing Ermal thoroughly. The nerves have resurfaced, but he knows what he wants, and he’s got no plans to run away this time.

“Tell me if I hurt you, ok? I’ll stop if you say, ok?”

“Mmm…”

“Ermal, promise me, amore?”

“I will, Bizio, I promise…”

And Bizio fixes his gaze on Ermal’s face, to closely watch his expression, to ensure that he feels no pain…

“Wait!”

“What, what’s wrong?”

Ermal reaches over to fumble in the draw before handing a small bottle of lube to Fabri, who generously coats his fingers. 

“Sorry…”

“Ermal, it’s fine, don’t be embarrassed…”

“No, it’s just… it’s only a small thing?”

“Tell me, amore.”

“I’ve...never- erm- been...penetrated before.” He almost whispers the words out, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’ll be gentle?”

Fabrizio feels a new wave of nerves, but smiles at the younger man, before pressing a soft kiss to his cock, wet with pre-come.

“I’ll go as fast or slow, gentle or rough, as you want me to.”

Ermal smiles, a hint of shyness in his voice as he whispers “Grazie.”

When Bizio enters the first finger, a little hesitant, he sees Ermal grimace slightly, and immediately asks: “Is this ok? Tell me if I’m hurting, or going too fast-”

With a soft smile, accompanied by a little moan, he murmurs: “It’s the best feeling ever, Fabri. Don’t stop…”

And Bizio slowly increases the pace, making sure to focus on Ermal, to ensure the younger man feels only pleasure, not pain. Occasionally, he murmurs a soft ‘so beautiful’ or ‘god, Ermal, you feel so good’ and smiles when Ermal blushes at his words. When he opens his eyes, giving a slight nod and asking for another finger, Bizio obliges, stretching them apart to ensure Ermal’s fully prepared, and the younger man whines and whimpers, almost driving Fabrizio over the edge with his desperation. When Fabrizio twists his fingers around, grazing over a particular spot, Ermal cries out loudly, but when Bizio goes to remove his fingers- 

‘Fuck, Bizio, do that again, please-”

A grin spreads across Fabrizio’s face.

“Was that your…?”

“I think so…”

After a few seconds, Bizio finds the spot again, pressing slightly harder this time, as an expression of pure bliss radiates from Ermal’s face.

“Oh my god! Fuck, I, yes, Fabri, there, again, please…” Ermal’s practically begging Bizio now, the way he squirms with every touch and lets go of all the moans and shouts he’s been suppressing driving Fabri over the edge. With his spare hand, Fabrizio touches himself, stroking hard and fast, biting his lip to delay his own orgasm, until Ermal says.

“Fabri, I think I’m ready…”

A cheeky grin appears on Fabrizio’s face, as he coyly asks: “What for?”

“You know…”

“I do, but I want you to tell me, your voice when you beg me, it- it turns me on so fucking much, amore….”

Ermal reaches his hand up to pull Bizio to gaze at him in the eyes. He’s flushed and sweating slightly when he murmurs, his voice shaking slightly:

“Please, Bizio, I want your cock. I want it so bad, I need it, I-” his eyes close as he finishes his sentence, blushing a deep crimson, “I want you...to fuck me.”

Fuck, Ermal’s brashness, and that submissive tone again, Fabrizio’s incredibly turned on. After coating his dick generously with the lube, he positions himself to enter Ermal, pulling Ermal’s ankles up to rest on his back. He steadies one hand on Ermal’s hip, taking Ermal’s hand in the other and pressing it to his face in a gentle caress. The younger man has his eyes closed, holding his breath in anticipation, and Bizio pushes the head in, ever so slowly…

“Ah!” Ermal tenses up at the intrusion, and Bizio asks whether he needs to pull out.

“N-no, just, wait a second….I just…” Ermal lets out a few deep breaths before speaking in a raspy voice. “Ok, push further now, slowly…”

Bizio does exactly as Ermal says, letting himself be guided until he’s all the way in. Ermal gasps and swears softly under his breath all the while, his hands wrapped Bizio’s back, nails digging in, totally consumed by desire…

He opens his eyes and nods to Bizio, indicating that he’s ready now: ‘Please, fuck me...’ The older man brushes away the few tears on Ermal’s face, hoping that when he finds Ermal’s sensitive spot again, the pain will subside as pleasure completely takes over.

He begins to thrust slowly, in and out, and Ermal’s little whines have now become obscene shouts, he’s not forming words, but pure animalistic noises, as Fabri quickens the pace, and the thrusts become more and more intense, faster, ‘harder, yes Fabri, more, please, god, more…’

When he begins to hit the prostate, Ermal screams, swears and throws his head back in sheer bliss, accompanied only by Bizio’s grunts as he thrusts faster and faster, his own orgasm building in his abdomen, and the sound of skin pounding against skin, hot and wet and-

“Ermal, I-I’m gonna c-c-come soon-” Bizio chokes out, “You’re...close?”

“Fuck, Bizio, don’t stop, don’t stop- yes!- there!, again, harder, please, fuck!”

When Bizio wraps a hand around Ermal’s cock, giving a few fast, hard tugs, Ermal throws his head backwards, eyes shut tight, hands fisting the bedsheet, tears on his face, clearly on the brink of orgasm, Fabri just tightens the hold, increasing the speed, before  
“Fuck, Fabri, I’m gonna come, let me come, Fabri, please let me come, I-”

“Come for me, amore.” Fabri’s voice is raspy, deep, thick, as he bites his lip to hold back his own climax, just a few seconds, just until Ermal-

“Ti amo, Bizio, fuck, fuck, fu-ah!”

And with his impromptu confession, Ermal reaches his climax, spilling his load all over his stomach and Bizio’s hand. Before he can come back to his senses, though, Bizio’s lips come crashing down onto his, both hands gripping his curls tightly, and he lets out a long, guttural moan as he reaches his own orgasm, spilling inside Ermal.

Ermal can’t open his eyes, he’s so overwhelmed by what just happened, the way Bizio had set his whole body on fire with passion, the way he’d thoroughly ravished him, the way he’d-

The way Ermal had told him that he loved him. In the heat of a moment, no elegant words, no touching gesture, not at all as it was meant to happen.

He feels Bizio wipe over his stomach with a shirt- was that his new blouse?- and finds himself unable to move, totally spent. He feels a tear well up in his eye, from pleasure, embarrassment? Who knew?

“Hey, hey, what’s the tear for?” Bizio coos, climbing up the bed to wrap his arms around his boyfriend in a delicate embrace. When Ermal burrows into Fabrizio’s neck (his curls going everywhere), Bizio hesitantly whispers: “Did I hurt you, amore?”

A shake of the head. Bizio holds him tightly, knowing that he’s likely feeling vulnerable after his first time being penetrated by another man, rocking him and cuddling him until he feels ready to talk.

“I’m sorry, Bizio…”

Bizio runs his fingers through Ermal’s curls, pulling them back to gaze at his face. When he sees Ermal crying he wipes away the tears, presses a kiss to his forehead and asks:

“Whatever for, tesoro?”

“I meant to tell you at the right time, something romantic and poetic, and not so soon after we got together, but I blurted it out in the moment, and I know you don’t feel as strongly, but-”

“You’re right. I feel stronger.”

“Wha..?”

“Come here, Piccolo,” Fabrizio whispers as he pulls Ermal to lie atop him. “Look at me, in my eyes, and I want you to listen, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Ti Amo anch’io Ermal. And I have done for a while now. I was actually going to tell you earlier, but, well, got distracted...”

“Really?”

“Why do you think I had all the candles, and the flowers, and the meal we had at my mum’s? It’s almost like I’d planned for the confession of love to coincide with my first time on top…”

The words are accompanied by a cheeky wink, and Ermal’s smile has widened to light up his entire face, and the tears in his eyes now are no longer from embarrassment, but joy and pure adoration for his boyfriend.

“Can I tell you again now that it’s romantic and poetic?”

“You can tell me a million times if you like, caro.”

“Ti Amo, my Fabrizio. Now, and forever.”

The two men cuddle for what seems like hours, not speaking, not kissing, but just relishing the moment. Right now, they have each other, they love each other and they both now know that. Smiling like dorks, they let the night pass in sweet silence, spending it in the embrace of the man they love. 

And, for the first night in months, Ermal remains curled up next to Fabrizio when they wake up the next morning. 

As do the blankets.


End file.
